


Impulse

by vassalady



Category: Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes
Genre: F/M, Minor Violence, Missing Scene, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Spaceships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 10:33:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2689589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vassalady/pseuds/vassalady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the trip back to Earth, Viper and Steve act, if contentiously, on their uncomfortable attraction to one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impulse

**Author's Note:**

> I set out to write rough sex, and it didn't turn out quite as rough as I wanted. Ended up more feels-oriented than planned.

It would take a day or so to reach Earth, even with the speed of the Skrulls’ ship. That left everyone with more time on their hands in a closely confined space. Not a recipe for success, Steve knew.

The ship was divided into four main compartments. There was the bridge, where Quartermain, looking dead on his feet and with Gyrich chattering away over his shoulder, and AIM member, sat at the controls. Quatermain and the AIM member eyed each other warily, and double checked everything the other did. Everything Gyrich said was pointedly ignored.

That, at least, would keep them honest. Well, mostly honest in the AIM member’s case.

King Cobra took up residence in one of the two smaller compartments. They both led off from the bridge and were some sort of rest area, presumably for officers. He more or less locked himself in, but that didn’t stop Mockingbird from keeping a hawk-like watch on the door.

Steve only hoped Cobra knew enough not to try anything stupid, not until they got to Earth at least. However, he seemed to listen to Madame Viper, and she had abandoned them all for the rear of the ship, the least comfortable compartment, but also the roomiest.

He had no doubt the moment they landed, she would be gone. But for now, she trusted Steve and the other heroes to get them all home, united as they were against a common threat.

_Enemy of my enemy indeed._

The other small compartment was where Steve put Susan to rest. After sleeping for awhile, she woke up again, and in an instant, Mockingbird abandoned her post watching Cobra and made sure she was alright. She came out once and spoke quietly with Quartermain, the only one she openly trusted (understandable, given how long she likely had been captured. She wouldn’t have known about Steve’s rescue from the ice.) They exchanged a few quiet words, and then she retired to Susan’s compartment. 

Seeing it was going to be a long flight, and the bridge was a little cramped, Steve slipped out into the rear.

Viper spared him only the most passing of glances before staring resolutely at the wall.

Steve sat on the opposite wall. There were little benches lining the sides. Meant for troops, Steve thought grimly. 

He didn’t think of whatever his replacement was doing. What he was saying to the Avengers, to the public. What he was doing to captured villains. What he was doing in Steve’s name.

He didn’t have time to get caught in those sickening thoughts. Or rather he did have the time, but he couldn’t waste it brooding.

“Thank you for coming back for me there,” Steve said.

“You were necessary to escape. This doesn’t mean we’re _friends_ ,” Viper replied, keeping her gaze to the wall.

“Of course not,” Steve said. “I fully plan to see you behind bars as soon as Earth is safe again.”

Viper quirked an eyebrow at him, finally breaking her staring contest with the wall. “You’d let me go free? Willingly?”

“Lack of any other choice. You are supposed to be dead. I’m supposed to have been home this whole time. We have to expect that the Earth-bound Skrulls are expecting us.” Or, alternatively, that Earth military troops would shoot them before they could even get there. 

Viper stayed silent for a long while after that, and Steve didn’t engage her. He preoccupied himself with trying to come up with possible battle strategies. With trying to convince the Avengers and SHIELD that they were who they said they were. Not their Skrull counterparts.

Then, again out of nowhere, Viper said, “Don’t expect me to think I owe you my life.”

Steve took a moment to come up with a response to that. The thought hadn’t crossed his mind. “I don’t leave people behind.” Not if he could help it. He felt of pang of guilt and grief, thinking of Bucky on that plane. But it soon faded back to the dull, constant ache he carried in his chest.

“Heroes,” Viper muttered, spiteful. “Think you’re better than all the rest.”

That sort of comment did not warrant a response. But Steve found himself saying, “I think you mean villains and criminals. Like yourself.”

Viper smirked then. Her hair covered the burned side of her face once again, so he saw only one eye. She looked pleased. “Oh, I don’t think, Captain. I know.”

Steve suppressed an amused chuckle. It was inappropriate, but her confidence almost had him tipping his hat. At least she was firm in her dichotomous conviction.

“Thank you, again,” Steve said, taking the chance to say it while she was still talking with him. She didn’t have to help; she didn’t have to come back for him. No matter what she said, he wasn’t needed at that point anymore. “Maybe it’s you I owe my life to.”

It had felt so good to be fighting with someone at his back again. After a one man fight against torture, solitary confinement, and starvation, it was good to have someone there, someone he discovered, to his surprise, he could count on. He couldn’t trust her, and he didn’t; however, she was every bit as anxious to get off that ship as he was, and somewhere in her, she had some kind of respect for humanity.

She had proved it by going back for him.

She hissed softly through her teeth. “You owe me nothing,” she said, voice filled with disgust. That surprised Steve. He had expected her to want something from him in return. Not that he would have given her anything for it. But he had expected it nonetheless.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t need anyone beholden to me. Especially not idealistic fools.”

He hadn’t expected her to answer that question, either. So he pressed on, hoping that maybe her openness would continue. “But you have people who work for you. You - well, the Skrull version of you - sent a fair few of them after me.”

“I have men at my command who share a common goal of chaos.” She spat the words out, harsh and fierce. “Or those who I deem useful. We do not owe each other anything.”

“Thank you, all the same.”

Viper eyed him, but she did not respond.

He didn’t mean to, but Steve must have dozed off at some point. He woke up abruptly from a light nap to find Viper sitting directly across from him now. He shook his head lightly. It was bad timing that they had chosen to use sleep deprivation on him (again) the past few days.

Viper, seeing he was awake, stood and walked closer to him. Steve was instantly tense. But only part of the tension was in expectation of a fight. 

He remembered the relief when she had returned to his side to help him. How his breath had caught in a way that had nothing to do with physical exertion when he pulled her into the ship. How hot her hand felt in his.

Viper reached out, slowly, but not tentative. She ran her nails lightly against his scruffy beard. “I expect you normally take a little more care in your appearance,” she said as if just making small talk.

“Never thought a beard suited me,” Steve replied. It came out softer than he intended.

“Hmmm…” Viper’s nails scraped down underneath his chin. He held his breath as they traced over his adam’s apple. Then they dipped a little lower.

He felt flushed and hot, but he kept still as Viper continued to trail her fingertips over his skin. This could go south in a second, but Steve made no move to stop her.

He wanted to continue. Maybe he was so deprived of human contact. Maybe it was his exhaustion. And maybe, to his shame, he was genuinely attracted to her. Found her admirable for her skill in fighting. For having, underneath her cold exterior, enough compassion to save him.

He still absolutely wanted her behind bars for life. But there was something there, something traitorous in his belly that filled him with both want and shame.

“Not very private,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“That would mean we’re doing something to be ashamed of,” Viper said, matching his voice.

“No games,” he replied.

“But that’s all you are.”

The words cut through him. A game. There was a thrill there. A ticket out. It made this not matter. His desire unimportant, lesser than Viper’s, from whatever she got out of this.

His eyes flicked to the door. The panel at the side that controlled it was kicked in. He was more surprised that the noise hadn’t woken him.

Viper pressed forward, one knee coming up to rest on his hand. It hurt, but he let her stay there. He brought his free hand up to her face, to her right side, but as soon as his fingers brushed against her face, Viper moved.

She slapped his hand away and shoved him hard against the wall, forearm pressed against his throat. Her eyes narrow, she said, in a hiss befitting her moniker, “You touch my face like that again, I will kill you.”

She wasn’t pushing on his throat so hard that he couldn’t breathe or speak. Steve didn’t back down, though, didn’t flinch. Instead, he simply said, “My apologies.”

It took a moment before Viper removed her arm. Then she was pulling Steve toward her roughly, ending in a fierce kiss that left Steve tasting blood. The burst of pain came belatedly; he swiped his tongue over the wound on his lip. But then Viper was on him again, one hand pulling tightly on his hair.

She still kneeled on one of his hands, only grinding it into the hard bench more. There was little doubt in his mind that he would be feeling that for sometime, but he could only hiss through his teeth as Viper bit his lip again, tugging it sharply away. 

“Not so innocent,” she said against his ear before biting that, too, eliciting another pained hiss from Steve.

She shifted, at last freeing his hand, and he placed both at her waist. But she gripped his wrists and pulled them away. She shoved them up against the wall above his head, and she climbed up onto the bench, knees on either side of Steve’s thighs. 

“You'll stay where I want you to stay,” she said in a harsh murmur.

“You underestimate me, then,” Steve replied. He managed to shake her grip loose by tugging sharply down and outwards. He caught the way Viper’s eyes lit up as he fought back, as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into him.

Her free hand clawed at his back, snagging his skin where his uniform was torn and causing deep scratches.

They wrestled like that for a long time, Viper seeking to cause pain, Steve resisting. The more he resisted, the fiercer she countered with her next attack. She had him spread eagled on the floor, and she was grinding down against his groin. They were both clothed, but that didn’t matter, because Steve’s world was the feel of heat and want, his cock filling and straining against his pants.

Viper teased him more, continued to grind down on him, and she made it clear that this was for her pleasure, not his.

She held his hands above his head again, fingers digging sharp points into his writs. She rolled her hips, which sent delicious friction through his cock. Steve let out a low moan. In return, Viper smirked.

Her breathing was quick, as was his, and they were both panting soon. Viper let him go long enough to finally release his cock from his pants. But his relief was short lived as she reached beneath him and twisted his balls sharply.

Stev bit back a howl as the pain coursed through him. But his cock didn’t soften. Instead, he bucked up, into her touch, wanting more.

Viper slammed into him, forcing him back down, and his head connected sharply with the floor. The thwack echoed through the compartment.

“Not yet,”she whispered to him, voice smooth as silk. At some point, she had pushed most of her hair behind her ears. It exposed her face, and she no longer seemed to care if he could see the scars or not. He didn’t touch, as she had ordered him, but he did find himself staring into her eyes.

Anyone else, and it might have been romantic. But this was lust and desire. A strange, perhaps twisted respect somewhere as well. But romantic it could never be.

She slipped out of her pants only enough to set herself on Steve’s cock. She rode him hard and fast, one hand gripping his balls tightly until he saw stars, the other scratching at his skin, creating red, angry lines that stung and deep pits where she dug her fingernails in.

Steve’s own hands were at her hips, gripping more tightly than he should have, than he otherwise would have, but Viper controlled the movement. She used him this way until she orgsmed, and then she was off him, using her thigh to get him off rather than her hand.

She backed away just as he came, so that he only got himself dirty. As he came down from the orgasm, Viper grabbed his head again, face in her hands, and pulled him into another kiss. She bit his lip one last time, and then she slammed him back into the floor again.

She got off in one smooth motion, doing up her pants again without another glance at Steve.

It was only then that Steve realized there was a banging at the door.

“Captain! Viper!” Mockingbird’s voice. She banged on the door again. “What’s going on in there?”

Steve put himself away. As he stood up, he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. It stung, like so many points over his chest and back. He glanced at the back of his hand, and there was two long smears of blood. He brushed it off against his uniform - it was hardly noticeable, given the state of disrepair and filth it had accumulated from his captivity and torture.

Viper looked at him, her expression stoic, for a long moment. Her hair had fallen in front of her face again, long and stringy. This was it. They had taken their pleasure in each other, and that would be the last of it.

They were from vastly different worlds. It was, as Viper had said, a game, nothing more.

Steve went to the door and began to talk with Mockingbird, making up some story about a malfunction. “A Skrull weapon must have damaged it as we made our mistake”

Soon enough, the AIM member was working on it, When the door at last opened, Mockingbird stared at them both with suspicion.

Steve checked with Quartermain about their status. They still had about half a day left before they would be getting to Earth.

“But this is pretty neat,” he said, pointing out the the window. Everyone was crowded onto the bride for once, a ragtag group if there ever was one, all looking beaten and worn, villain and hero alike, but hopeful. Up in front of them was Jupiter, getting larger by the minute. The red eye was facing them. He’d remembered reading about how it was one giant storm, and it had been raging for ages. He glanced surreptitiously at Viper, who kept her gaze on the planet. Underneath her expression, he thought he saw something like awe. So even she could still be impressed.

The storm reminded him of her. It was his only chance to see this storm, but he wondered if his own, like Jupiter’s, would continue for a long while after that.

It was a pointless exercise, a pointless thought.

They had taken a moment out of time, here in the emptiness of space, and that was all. The game was over; they’d be back to fighting each other the moment the Skrulls were expelled from Earth. There was, and never would be, love, and they had satiated their lust in the only way they knew how. Steve ignored both the shame and the memory of how much he had enjoyed it.

“Let’s go home,” Steve said. As magnificent as the planet before them was, there was more important business at hand. They had a world to save.


End file.
